Teagan Lilliebjerg

All That Glitters

For all that glistens under these voracious streams of techno-iridescent lights, a tear can be shed for the scroungers down on the base floor. This shivoo is replete with wealthy sadists, and I am here as another object for them to throw money at. The room is the coloring book of a child. Blistering streaks of colors frantically wave their arms of light across the dance floor. From time to time again, the rays choose to wash over me, a rapture of neon carrying me away, just to leave me still here moments after. A woman approaches the bar that I am sitting at and orders me a drink. There’s a profound sense of confidence and beauty that she carries. I notice this as she ogles my body like a canabilist in a human slaughterhouse. Off into the ornate she goes, I know I will be seeing her later tonight.